This Dance We Do
by beautifulanthropologist
Summary: A story about Sara and Nick and how they change as a result of the events in their daily lives. There is going to be a little bit of everything packed into this one. It is set earlier in the CSI timeline with small mentions of events from episodes but is more AU. It's starting out with a pretty low rating but will eventually end up as an M rating due to content.
1. Chapter 1

This is part of a story that I had started writing years ago and have always thought about putting online but have been hesitant. It's just a short piece, a setup for something much longer. I decided to put this up to see what people think about it and if it goes over well I will put some more of the story up here. Basically, this is a piece about Sara and Nick and the dance they do. Please read and (hopefully) enjoy. Feedback is always welcomed.

* * *

I met Sara Sidle the day bodies were falling from the sky in Vegas. It was one of those typical hot, sunny Vegas mornings that tourists complain about and the locals are just accustomed to living through. A reported suicide was keeping out of bed that morning. Instead of getting my forty winks I was entertaining the masses with one of Grissom's experiments.

Cue the bodies falling from the sky.

I was able to meet her after climbing down from the clouds and I knew right away that she was someone I wouldn't soon forget. I don't know what it was about Sara Sidle that made me develop feelings for her, perhaps it was that way she strode into our scene with such confidence, or maybe it was her beautiful face, or that smile. Whatever it was I knew right then that I was hooked.

Here we are now, more than five years after Sara's arrival in Las Vegas. We've each had our fair share of ups and downs, sometimes it seems like there are more downs than ups, but we're still going, still surviving somehow. I look back on the past months and years often and sometimes it's hard to believe that we've overcome some of those things- me being buried alive and Sara being attacked in the mental institution and being forced to face the demons from her past. I also watched her try to make something more out of her relationship with Grissom with no such luck. She's thrown herself at him more times than I can remember, with each time having a similar result. It angers me that he does it to her, making her feel like he wants something with her but dropping her the minute things get too serious for him.

I've still got those feelings for Sara, they're even stronger now than when I first met her. She was on my mind most of the time while I was buried in that plexiglass coffin. I thought about all the things that I wanted to say to her for years. For the first time in my life I felt honest-to-god regret for things that I wished that I had done but was too much of goddamned pansy to follow through with and I silently begged and pleaded to be given another shot just so I could tell her the things I was thinking and feeling every minute of every day. I wanted to escape from that coffin and pull her into my arms and love her the way that she deserved.

I wanted to feel her slight frame against my chest, her head resting on my shoulder, my fingers buried in her silky chestnut tresses. I like to believe that my thoughts of her kept me alive while I was six feet under in that claustrophobic prison being eaten alive by fear.

Things don't always happen the way we want them to, however. I was yanked back into this world and suddenly thrust into a whirlwind receiving attention from anyone and everyone. My family and friends watched me like hawks, taking every misstep I made as a symbol of my plunging into a deep depression. Sara retreated. She began to tiptoe around me, treating me like I was fragile and was going to break as a result of anything she tried to say. I held onto my feelings, afraid to tell her the things I many times I've wanted to make a move, ask her to grab a drink or go out for breakfast but I've backed down before asking her because I'm afraid she'll decline.

It's been a few months since I was rescued from my premature burial and I'm done with waiting, done with tiptoeing, done with being coddled.

Maybe it's time for me to take a shot. Maybe it's time to go all in for Sara Sidle.


	2. Chapter 2

I walk into the locker room after shift is over to find Sara standing at her locker, obviously getting ready to leave for the day. She's wearing the standard department issued blue jumpsuit for automobile examinations that have the errant grease stain here and there across the sleeves. Her hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail with a few wispy strands tickling the back of her neck. She unzips the jumpsuit and sighs while rubbing the back of her neck and moving her head side to side.

"Excuse me miss, but I'm pretty sure it's a crime to look that good in those coveralls," I say, walking up behind Sara. She turns around slowly with a coy smile on her face and crosses her arms over her chest shifting her weight on her legs so that she leaning more to the right.

"Is it?" she asks, still smiling, "Well what are you going to do about it? Arrest me?"

I should have expected a flirtatious little comment from her, yet she catches me off guard anyway, and before I have a chance to counter Sara chuckles a little bit before turning back to face her locker. She shrugs the top half of the coveralls off her shoulders, allowing them to hang from her hips, the sleeves looking like they are reaching out for the floor. I let my gaze run back up her slender figure taking in her gentle curves and finally settle on her elegant neck and shoulders. She casts another coy smile over her shoulder at me. The tension from the past few months is quickly disappearing.

"Sara," I say as I lean against the locker next to hers, "At least let me take you out for dinner first."

She chuckles again and turns back to her locker. I watch her continue to wiggle out of the coveralls and then toss them into the dirty laundry. This woman is seriously trying to kill me. After several more moments of silence I can't take it anymore.

"Well, what do you say, Sara? Want to grab dinner sometime? My treat." Sara closes her locker door and faces me again. Her dark brown eyes stare into mine for several moments before she speaks.

"You want to get dinner... with me?" she asks, sounding almost surprised by the prospect. I nod in response. She chews her bottom lip momentarily, giving the idea some thought. "Make it lunch, today at your place and you've got yourself a deal cowboy." She smiles at me once again.

"Done," I reply, not needing to give it a second thought, "What time would you like to come over?"

"Give me time for a shower and a quick nap and I'll be there," Sara replies walking to the locker room door, "Oh and Nicky, I'll eat almost anything, but hold the meat."

With that she disappears out the locker room door and I'm left to wonder exactly what just transpired here.

* * *

Walking out into the Las Vegas heat reminds me that I am seriously lacking any refreshing beverages in my refrigerator and I make a mental note to pick something up when I stop at the super market.

I breeze through the super market quickly on the way back to my place and pick up a few things to make a vegetarian sandwich that is sure to knock Sara's socks off. When I finally walk through my door it's already going on nine in the morning and I am ready to hit the hay for a couple hours. I strip off my t-shirt and jeans and crawl into bed in just my boxers ready to dream about Sara, like I do every time.

I open my eyes slowly after what feels like several hours of uninterrupted sleep and glance over at my alarm clock. 11:46 am. Sara will probably be here soon. Almost as if on cue there is a knock on my front door. Without thinking I roll out of bed and go to answer the door.

"Do you always answer the door like that?" Sara asks with a chuckle after I pull the door open, greeting her with a big grin. She hands over a bottle of sparkling lemonade and walks into my house. "Nice boxers, by the way. Though I have to admit I always figured you to be a boxer-brief kinda guy." I feel a blush creep onto my face.

"Normally you'd be right," I say, "I just haven't done laundry for a while and I'm kinda running low. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to put some clothes on so this isn't so awkward. Feel free to make yourself at home."

Sara chuckles and nods, watching me as I retreat to my bedroom.

_Way to start this off on the right foot, numbskull_. _But hey at least you know she thinks about you in your boxers, that's a plus right?_

I emerge a few minutes later fully clothed and do a little spin in the living room at Sara's request so she can critique my choice of attire. After receiving her approval in the form of a wolf whistle I saunter into the kitchen to put Sara's sparkling lemonade in the freezer to chill. I grab two bottles of water out of the fridge and head back into the living room to see what Sara is up to.

"I always forget how great your place is," she says. She's lying back on the couch with one of my forensic journals in her lap. "And you have awesome taste in reading materials. I commend you on having one of the better bachelor pads that I have been lucky enough to visit." I smile at her and join her on the couch, putting my feet up on the coffee table and handing Sara one of the bottles of water.

"I'm glad you approve," I say, "So how was your morning?"

"Relaxing," she answers with a shrug, "Nothing to complain about. Well there is one thing... you could have told me that I had grease on my cheek before I went out in public after work this morning!" I laugh out loud.

"I almost forgot about that, Sar. That was a pretty nice, big grease smudge. It was so cute though." She rolls her eyes at me.

"Whatever Nicky." Sara crosses her arms over her chest and looks away from me in mock anger.

"Oh, don't do that," I say, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the grease." I scoot a little bit closer to her and pull her feet into my lap. "How about I make it up to you with a foot rub?"

Sara glances at me out of the corner of her eye. "Maybe just a short one..." she says laying her head back on the arm of the couch, "Just promise you'll be gentle." She offers up her striped-sock-clad foot to me and settles in.

"It is done," I say, gently squeezing the ball of her left foot, "I wouldn't want to hurt the delicate Sara Sidle."

"Hey!" she exclaims, poking me in the side with her other foot, "I am not delicate! I'm tough. I could probably kick your butt if I tried!"

I grin at her and continue rubbing her feet. After several moments Sara relaxes, closing her eyes and releasing a soft moan.

"Oh Nicky... I could get used to this. Do you take appointments?"

I laugh out loud and say, "Yeah sure Sara, anything for you." She smiles at me. I give her toes a gentle squeeze and tickle them lightly. "So I bought some ingredients to make a grilled veggie sandwich... you hungry yet?"

"Starving," Sara replies, opening one eye to peek at me, "Let's make those sandwiches." She jumps up and scampers over to the kitchen, pausing in the archway to turn back to me. "Just promise me that you'll wash your hands first." With that she flashes me a quick wink and leads the way into my kitchen.

I do as I'm told after entering the kitchen under Sara's watchful eye and then proceed to pull the ingredients for our awesome sandwich out of the fridge.

"So I've got eggplant, red peppers, mushrooms, tomatoes, and onions that I thought we could grill, and then some fixings over here that you can add as you see fit. Sound good to you?" Sara nods in reply. She watches me grab a colander out of the cupboard and wash the vegetables in the sink.

"What would you like me to do Nicky?" I look over to find her standing right next to me, peering over my shoulder at the vegetables in the sink. Her close proximity has got me on alert; it's taking every ounce of self control that I have not to move in closer and slide an arm around her waist.

"Absolutely nothing," I reply, "Just sit back, relax, and let me do all the work."

"But Nicky," she begins to protest, but I cut her off quickly before she has a chance to argue with me.

"Uh, uh, uh. Sara I insist. You are my guest and I will treat you as such; I am not going to make you prepare you're own meal. What kind of a host would I be if I made you do that? Seriously grab a glass, have some of that lemonade that your brought here and simply enjoy my company."

Sara harrumphs but keeps a smirk on her face. She gives me a look that tells me she'll be compliant but isn't going to like it and she goes to the fridge.

"Can I at least offer to pour you a glass? I mean allow me to feel even the slightest bit useful over here."

"Sar, I am parched right now and I would love it if you poured a glass of that delicious lemonade for me," I say, humoring her for the time being. She smiles victoriously and makes her way around my kitchen grabbing glasses and getting the bottle out of the freezer. I steal a glance of her out of the corner of my eye as I begin to slice our vegetables. She's moving so gracefully around the kitchen, like she belongs here, like she's always belonged here. Sara returns to the freezer and tosses a few ice cubes into each glass, the bottom of her tank top riding up slightly as she reaches into the freezer. The air hitches in my throat slightly at the sight of smooth, pale skin of her abdomen.

"Here you go, sort of freshly squeezed."

Before I realize what is happening Sara has thrust a glass of lemonade in front of my face, disrupting any daydreams that I may have been having about what I'd like to do to that smooth skin of hers.

"Thank you darling," I say, accepting the glass from her. I take a long sip of the refreshing beverage. "I have to admit, Sara, that really hit the spot. Thank you."

I finish cutting the vegetable and head over to the back door.

"Hey Sar, I'm going to grill these real quick. Go ahead and hang out in here where it's cool. This should only take me ten minutes or so."

I step outside with the giant plate of vegetables and throw them on the grill. I don't know why but I'm still feeling kind of tense, like things haven't gone completely back to normal. It's almost like Sara doesn't know how to act around me. I know these things don't happen overnight, but I miss what I had with Sara before everything happened. I miss the feeling of being completely comfortable with another person. I miss being able to talk to Sara about anything and everything. The conversations now, including today, feel so superficial, like going too deep is going to nick a major artery and that will be the end of one or both of us. I know that I need someone to talk to and I want more than anything for that someone to be Sara. I wonder if she's feeling the same way. I get lost in my thoughts while grilling and before I know it the vegetables are done.

I return to the cool air conditioning of my house and look around for Sara, expecting to find her lying on the couch, glancing through one on my forensic journals. When I don't find her on the couch, my curiosity is piqued. I find her in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, and grinning coyly at me. A smile like that always suggests that this woman is up to something, usually no good. She glances over her shoulder and I follow her gaze. The table is completely set and ready for us to dine.

"Sar, I told you that you didn't have to do anything. You're my guest, how can I treat you right if you do everything?"

Sara chuckles and saunters over to me. She looks down at the plate of grilled vegetables and then back up at me.

"Nicky? Quit your complaining and let's eat; I'm starving," she says as she grabs the plate out of my hands. I watch her sit down at the table and start serving herself some of the vegetables. She pauses briefly to look up at me. "Well? Are you going to join me, or are you just going to stand there and admire me all day?"

"I wouldn't mind the latter," I counter as I take my place across from her, "I have to admit that admiring you has to be one of the more pleasant things to do." Sara ducks her head and blushes at my comment but doesn't say anything. She quietly assembles her sandwich, taking her time and avoiding eye contact with me.

Finally, after several uncomfortable moments Sara clears her throats and speaks, "This looks delicious Nick. Your mother raised you right. I don't think I've ever had a guy friend who-."

"Sara, what happened to us?" I interrupt, tired of listening to her ramble trying to fill the time with small talk and superficial niceties. Sara stops talking immediately, looking taking aback and confused. "Sara, what happened to the people we used to be? We used to be comfortable around each other. We could joke around and talk about anything. I remember when I could flirt with you shamelessly and you would fire right back with some dirty little remark. Now it's like we're afraid of getting too comfortable with one another. Every time you start to relax around me it's like all of a sudden you realize what you're doing and snap back into this stiff new Sara. What's going on Sar? What happened that made us lose the people we used to be? I want that back, I want it back so bad."

I finish my rant and realize that at one point during my rambling I had gotten up from the table and am now standing directly beside Sara. Sara looks flabbergasted, her dark brown eyes wide and almost scared, and she is leaning away from me slightly.

"I'm sorry Sar," I say, returning to my seat, "I don't know what came over me. Well, I mean, I do know what came over me but I don't know why I reacted like this. I'm sorry."

I cast my eyes down at my plate, suddenly losing my appetite. Sara slowly shakes her head.

"No, no Nicky it's fine. It's alright. I- I understand, really... I miss you too."

The air hitches in my throat and I look back up into her chocolate eyes that have softened.

"I guess ever since finding you in that coffin we have all been tiptoeing around you, haven't we? We're all walking on eggshells because we're afraid to cause anymore damage. We don't want to..."

"Break me?" I offer up when Sara trails off, seemingly afraid to finish her sentence. She almost flinches at my statement. "It's alright Sara, you can say it. I've kind of gotten that feeling from you guys over the past weeks and months... I guess I can't blame you guys; it was horrible... And yeah it's going to take some time to get over. I'm going to have nightmares for a long time and I know that I'll be looking over my shoulder all the time... I just wish it wasn't like this. Ya know? I wish I didn't have you guys worrying about me twenty-four seven; afraid that a case is going to trigger a flashback or that something you say is going to offend me. It shouldn't be like this. I need normalcy Sar, and having you guys tiptoe around me isn't helping me find normal any faster. What happened in the locker room today was the closest I've felt to normal in a really long time. It felt like it used to, most of this day did up until a little bit ago."

Sara has a hand up covering her mouth and is studying my intensely. Without saying a word she gets up and walks around my small table until she is standing next to me. Before I know it she is hauling me up to my feet with a firm grip on the front of my shirt and pulling my into the tightest hug I have ever received.

"Do you realize how long I've waited to do this?" she asks, resting her chin on my shoulder.

"About as long as I have?" I ask with a chuckle. Sara pulls away from the hug slightly and looks me in the eye. She smiles warmly and brings both hands up to cup my face.

"I'm sorry Nicky," she says, "You now we didn't mean any harm..."

"I know, I know, I know," I say putting her arms around her slender waist and hunching over slightly to rest my nose on her shoulder, "Sar, I'm sure you guys have been well-intentioned... I'm just asking y'all to realize that I'm not broken and that... I'm the same old Nicky." Sara pulls back again and looks me in the eye with a smirk.

"Alright Nicky. I promise that I will go back to the good ol' days of messing around with you. Everyone else is going to take some convincing though..."

"I'll deal with them when the time comes," I say, taking her hands into mine, "But until then, how about we eat darlin'? The food's getting cold." Sara looks at the food that we've barely touched and smiles.

"Nicholas Stokes, that has got to be one of the best ideas you've had all day. Let's eat."

Sara and I take our places at the table where we finish assembling our sandwiches. I take a moment to watch Sara as she unfolds her napkin and places on her lap and picks up her gargantuan sandwich that I am fairly certain is larger than her head. She takes an equally large bite of that sandwich and then catches me watching her causing an embarrassed smile to cross her face. She holds a hand up in front of her face while she finishes chewing and then wipes her lips with the napkin.

"You caught me in one of my moments Nick, now you know I'm not a dainty little lady."

"Doesn't bother me in the slightest, Sar," I say, "I was too busy thinking anyway."

Sara puts her elbows on the table and rests her chin in her hands, leaning in toward me slightly.

"Oh yeah, and just what were you thinking about Mr. Stokes?"

"I'm thinking that I'd like to do this again real soon... Maybe make it a regular thing. How about it Sara?"


End file.
